


Looking for a clue

by neerapen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Clueless Yuuri, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 00:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8468452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neerapen/pseuds/neerapen
Summary: It takes one touch and Yuuri's head goes haywire.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iridania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridania/gifts).



> I thought I wouldn't write about these two but here I am, writing about these two.
> 
> Iridania prompted me with "getting a clue" but Yuuri doesn't get them. At all.

It's all about touches.

A hand lingering on his shoulder. One caressing his head.

A foot under the table, waking him up before he faceplants into his vegetables.

Lips brushing his ear, whispering things that are immediately forgotten due to the closeness.

Yuuri needs to shut his eyes for a moment every time it happens, inhaling the strength that wants to escape him.

"Are you alright, Yuuri?"

"Huh?" Yuuri stares at Victor's hand on his shoulder, then turns to look at him properly. Victor is smiling, eyes sparkling with secrets that Yuuri would gladly ask him about, if only he had the strength.

The rink is silent, the sky outside almost purple. It must be late already. The artificial lights always manage to make him lose the sense of time.

"Yuuri? I asked you if everything is all right. You seem distracted."

"Ah!" Yuuri slides backwards, distancing himself from Victor to take an intake of air. "I'm fine. Can I try again?"

Victor's hand slowly falls from his shoulder to his arm, and Yuuri's skin shivers at the movement. It stops at his elbow for a squeeze, then falls on his hand and Yuuri can't stop watching as their fingertips touch.

He wonders what Victor would do if he decided to catch that hand and never let it go.

"Yuuri?"

Yuuri snaps to attention, focusing on Victor's face: "Yes!"

Victor seems amused, head tilted and a knowing look: "You weren't listening, were you?"

"I'm sorry." Yuuri concentrates on Victor's collarbone for a moment, finding somehow comfort on the way the shirt brushes Victor's neck.

A finger raises his attention back to Victor's eyes and Yuuri forces a smile, despite the scorching heat of that single touch.

"I just… I think I can do it properly this time!"

Victor hums noncommittally, but lets him go nevertheless. "One more, then."

Yuuri nods and slides away from him, back on ice. He clears his head with an intake of breath and his focus is almost back. Victor is always there, always looking at him, always present. Yuuri has learned the hard way how to put aside his fears.

The constant presence is enough. The constant touching, however…

Well, sometimes it's unbearable, but at the same time it settles him.

(He hates that. Hates how he's starting to wait for those touches, how he's getting used to them, despite blushing every time.)

Yuuri focuses on skating, on the right way to convey the feelings before the quad.

Longing. Fear. Hope.

One movement, another one.

Speed, the right one that will help him jump properly.

The jump, feeling the ice disappearing from under his feet.

Freedom, spinning, nothing to stop him.

He stumbles with the landing, puts a hand on the ice to stabilize himself.

Not enough. Still not enough.

Yuuri clenches his fists, letting the skates take him wherever they want. Away from disappointment. Away from failures.

"You are too tired, Yuuri."

Victor's voice is a warm murmur at his side. Yuuri raises his head and Victor squeezes his elbow, a soft smile on his face.

It's strange how life graces Yuuri with Victor's presence.

"Y-yes, maybe I am."

Victor stops them, holding on Yuuri's arm: "Yuuri."

Yuuri gives him his full attention, turning to face him properly. "I know, sorry. My mind is..." He twitches his lips, looking around in search of something that he still can't grasp. "It's like I'm trying to find a clue."

Victor frowns: "On what?" His grip falters, the warmth fading away and it's not okay. Definitely not okay.

Yuuri stops Victor's hand with his, holding onto it, searching for the right words. Victor's hands are a bit colder than before, when he touched Yuuri's face. This worries Yuuri: despite Victor being Russian, most of the times it seems that Victor doesn't really get along with cold. What if the reason why he always asks to sleep together is because he needs more heat? What if Yuuri, by refusing him, is putting his coach in danger? Maybe he's cold at night. Maybe he doesn't want to admit that he needs another heater in his room? Yuuri should fix that. He will as soon as they go back.

Right now he can't do much. If only Yuuri could give him the scorching heat that every single touch between them causes him, Yuuri would actually feel a bit better.

God, Yuuri's mind just can't stay put when it comes to Victor.

"Let's go home," is the safest thing to say.

Victor turns his hand and closes it around Yuuri's. "I told you many, many times," Victor's voice is still calm, but there's that peculiar quality that sometimes emerges and makes Yuuri's heart beat faster. "You can tell me everything."

Yuuri swallows his fear and looks at their hands. "I'm confused."

Victor makes a strange noise. Yuuri looks at his face and… He's pretty sure the other one is surprised. The way Victor's eyes are bulging is so weird that Yuuri can't stop himself from snorting.

"What?" Victor asks, frowning a little bit, his bangs falling on one of his eyes like usual. He huffs and it moves back into place, but he doesn't seem satisfied, fidgeting a little.

Yuuri starts laughing for no reason whatsoever. Oh god, he has lost it. It happened. He is having a mental breakdown in front of Victor Nikiforov. "What?"

"Well, you are the one acting strangely, Yuuri. I'm starting to seriously worry here." Victor squeezes his hand and lets it go. For a moment Yuuri is tempted to complain, but Victor is already moving to hold his other hand, dragging him away from the rink and away from the ice.

"I am fine," Yuuri insists, trying to ignore the heat burning his cheeks. "Absolutely okay."

"Are you now," Victor turns, once again blocking Yuuri's way. "You could at least admit something, don't you think?"

Yuuri's mind goes completely blank at that: "Huh?"

Victor fixes his bangs with his free hand, an annoyed gesture that Yuuri has learned to recognize in the hard way.

"I swear I'm alright Victor!" Yuuri rushes, raising both his hands and getting a strange twitch of Victor's eyes when he lets go of his hand.

Placate him. He needs to placate him. "I'm sorry I worried you. I just… I hate the fact that I still can't land that set properly. It's driving me crazy!"

Victor purses his lips at that, crossing his arms on his chest. "You are improving, Yuuri! You can't push yourself too much. Learn your limits. Breaking them takes time, but you'll do it. I'm sure of that." Victor looks away from him, focusing on the ice rink. He breathes something in Russian and Yuuri hates himself for never studying the language. Part of him is convinced that the answer to all his problems is in what Victor refuses to translate. "Day after day, if you keep practicing, you'll be able to overcome every single obstacle in your way. _But_."

Yuuri snaps to attention at that, feeling his spine straighten. "Yes!?"

"Whatever is the other thing that is bothering you, I hope you'll realize that you may actually enjoy it." Victor's expression turns wistful at that. "But that is only what I hope, and what I hope is not enough, isn't it?"

Silence falls around them, and Victor still isn't looking at him. Weird, Yuuri thinks. It's disturbing, somehow, and it makes him more uncomfortable than when Victor is blatantly staring at him.

This is the complete opposite, and maybe more.

Yuuri is not one to start physical contact, not by a long mile. The mere thought always leaves him giddy or slightly panicked. But somehow, someway, Victor is different. Yuuri feels more and more this need to just _reach_ for Victor. Letting him inside his comfort zone is embarrassing, but okay, really, really okay. If he wants to be completely honest with himself, touching Victor grounds him.

So his hands grip at Victor's, claim the attention that is becoming vital for Yuuri.

"It's more than enough," Yuuri says, tightening his hold on Victor's hands.

Victor squeezes his hands in return: "Is it, now?"

Yuuri nods once, no room for other comments. "It's all I need." He clears his voice. "Your hope, that's it."

Victor moves his head in Yuuri's direction at that. Yuuri shuts his eyes, almost sure he's going to combust due to whatever is about to happen and he doesn't even know _what_ is going to happen, but his brain is sending the loudest signals.

However, it's not enough to prepare him for Victor's lips planting a kiss on his forehead.

Victor moves back, his fingers sliding to hold Yuuri's wrists. "Then I'll hope with all my heart."

The question clouding Yuuri's mind is still not answered, but, somehow, something fades away. Things look brighter. Victor's hold is warmer. Yuuri's heart is calmer.

Yuuri smiles and looks at Victor, feels the blood rushing to his cheeks, but it's okay.

Somehow, he knows that the answer is at his fingertips.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble. Oh well...  
> There might be some mistakes and in that case, please point them out! 
> 
> Talk victuri to me on twitter @ rosenlight


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